


say it every way you can

by tiptoe39



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 4th of July, 5 Things, Fluff, I Love You, Love Confessions, M/M, Providence, Sappy, Skype, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, jack's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a.k.a. Five Ways Jack and Bitty May Have Said "I Love You" For the First Time, and One Way They Didn't</p><p>Note about this fic: Although they are all set along the same timeline - and all feature Jack’s trip to Madison & birthday visit to the Haus + Bitty going to Providence for a few days thereafter  - they are all different universes. So each first I love you is the first for these boys in that universe. I hope that’s not too confusing.</p><p>Written in a giant sprint over the course of less than 48 hours. Unbeta'd.</p><p>ETA: A bunch of this stuff has been Jossed but I hope it's still enjoyable :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	say it every way you can

**I. By Text - May**

_Are you home yet?_

Just got in. How's Providence?

_All right._

_Going down to the arena for orientation tomorrow._

_They're letting me get some sleep tonight._

That makes one of us.

_What?_

Oh, come on. You think I'm going to be able to sleep, after today?

_It was a pretty big day._

_Graduation and all._

Jack... you're kidding me, right?

_And you had a long flight._

You *are* kidding me. You cut that out.

You know why I won't be able to sleep.

_Maybe._

_Maybe I want you to say it._

Jack.

...Fine.

The boy I love kissed me today. That's kind of a big deal.

_Yeah, well._

_I kissed the boy I love today._

_That was a big deal too._

Jack, did we just...?

_Just what?_

You know, just use the L-word.

Like it's natural.

_But it is??_

I know it is! It’s weird though.

_Why?_

Well… we're not even dating.

_We're not?_

We *are*?

Jaaaack.

What are we, then?

Boyfriends?

_Is boyfriends okay?_

Yes, oh my gosh Jack yes.

Boyfriends is super okay.

_We probably shouldn't tell anyone._

Yeah, I know...

Let's go back to the part where I'm the boy you love.

I like that part.

_I like you._

Jack... I love you.

_I love you too, Bits._

Oh, no.

_??_

Now there's *no* way I'm sleeping.

**ii. By Skype - June**

"Zimmboni? Seriously? That's a thing they're calling you?" Bitty makes a face. "Of all the things they could have come up with, that's what stuck? Oh, Lord, Jack. I'm sorry."

Jack shrugs. "I'm the rookie. I have to pay my dues."

His face is relaxed, his eyes a little weary maybe, but he looks good on the screen. Bitty could sit there for like an hour and just grin like a goofball. He's Skyped Jack only three or four times since he got home, but they're texting constantly. Between Jack and the rest of the team, it kind of feels like he never went home.

"They're not giving you a hard time, though, are they? People are being nice, at least?"

"They're not blindfolding me and leading me shirtless across campus, if that's what you mean."

"Hey! I had a duty! You had to be properly initiated." Bitty huffs. Jack is chuckling in the background. "You know you should be glad it was me leading you around. Could have been Shitty. Anyway, the point is, they're all treating you all right? Do I have to go up there and tell a few people off?"

"I'd like to see that. You versus the starting line, giving them a piece of your mind. I’d stand back and let you take care of them all by yourself."

Jack's smile is at once wicked and frighteningly attractive. Bitty wants to dive through the screen and kiss it off him. He harrumphs instead. "You would! Dear Lord, this is the man I fell in love with. My poor tender heart."

"Bitty..." The smile disappears.

"Anyway. Mom and I are trying to plan out the menu for when you come down next week. Have they got you on a strict diet? I figure I'll survive only making the apple and pecan, but I'd really love to do a peach too if you think you'd eat some of it--"

"Bitty."

Very nearly the voice of a certain gruff captain annoyed with a freshman who can't stand to get checked. Bitty pays attention. "What?"

Something softens around the lines of Jack's eyes. It's hard to see on the screen, but it's there. "What did you just say?"

"About a peach pie?"

"No. Before that. The Dear Lord part."

Bitty squints. "Dear Lord, this is the man I fell for? That part?"

"That's not what you said."

"Then what did I... Jack, what's that look for?"

It's not the greatest lighting, but there's definitely a pink tint to Jack's cheeks. "You said 'fell in love.'"

"Oh." Bitty sits back in his chair. "...Oh."

Jack's silent. His eyes keep darting to the side, then back at the screen.

"Um." It's hot in this room. Very hot, even for a Georgia summer. Bitty slides a finger under the edge of his shirt. "Sorry. I shouldn't have." He forces a laugh. "You know me, sometimes I get to babbling and my mouth gets ahead of my brain, and..."

"Me, too."

Bitty frowns at the screen. "You do not, you barely talk at all."

"No, I mean..." Jack scratches at his head absently. "About the other thing. Me, too."

"See?" Bitty grins, but the grin slides off his face in another second. "Jack... Jack Zimmermann, you're not trying to say..."

"Forget it." Pink is now red, and Jack's eyes are averted.

The little squeal that comes flying from Bitty's throat is utterly involuntary and 100 percent sincere. "Ja-ck!"

"I gotta go."

"No, Jack, don't. Look." Bitty grabs the sides of his monitor like that will hold Jack in place. "What if I say it first? Then you just have to repeat it. Wouldn't that be easier?"

Jack mutters something, but he doesn't end the call, thank goodness.

Okay. Bitty takes a deep breath. Suddenly this seems very momentous indeed. What's he getting all excited about? He knows he means it, so what's the big deal? Okay. Here he goes. "Jack, I, um… I--"

"I love you, Bits."

Bitty nearly swallows his tongue.

There's a moment of bizarre silence in his room, Bitty staring and Jack on the screen staring back and nobody saying anything, but the words from a moment ago practically glowing in the space between them.

Abruptly, Jack's lips quirk. "Huh," he says.

Bitty's jaw is numb. "S.. s... say that again."

"I thought you were going to say it first."

"So did I!"

And now Jack's out-and-out smirking. "Then say it now."

"B-but you just--!"

"Yeah. I just. Now you."

This must be what an exploding brain feels like "Look here, Mr. Zimmermann, you can't chirp me into telling you I love you, that's not how it's supposed to work!"

"It just did."

"T-that didn't count!"

"Didn't it?"

"Of course not."

"Well, did you mean it?"

"Did I--" Bitty sinks down onto his folded arms, his head lolling to the side. "Jack, you're being unfair."

"Bits." For a moment, Jack's smile is soft. "I wish I was there right now."

The ache in his voice sends an answering curl of warmth through Bitty's body. "Yeah. I can't wait 'til next week."

"Will you say it then?"

Bitty whimpers.

"Then I can wait," Jack says.

Tears bite at Bitty's eyes. "You don't have to," he says, and leans in to whisper into the microphone.

**III. In Madison - July**

How he got Mama to let them go off on their own for the fireworks is anyone's guess. Normally, she's all about the family celebrations. But when Bitty mentions taking the truck out to a good spot, she glances at Coach and then shrugs. "That sounds fine, just you two don't stay out too late, now," she says, and Bitty kind of wants to take her temperature.

Only kind of, though. Mostly he wants to hop in that truck and go, go, go.

Driving along dirt roads in the twilight, the radio humming (Jack has tuned it to a country station and he's too happy for Bitty to say him nay), Bitty breathes in the scent of hay and possibilities. He doesn't know what will happen out here. It will be him and Jack, alone as they haven't really had a chance to be yet, with time and space unfolding around them. The anticipation has his nerves zinging. Taking a deep breath, he eases the truck off the road and through a remote field to his favorite spot.

Oh, the boys he'd wished he could take here, back in high school, when boyfriends and dates lived only in the realm of idle thoughts and faraway dreams. In a way, he's been waiting for this night, this date, his whole life. And he can't think of a better boy to bring here. What a way for his dreams to come true.

He swings out of the cab of the truck, pads in flip-flops across the grass to open the back, and hops in. Jack follows on the other side of the truck, looking a little nervous. "Is it okay that we're out here? Isn't this someone's land?"

Bitty shakes his head, laughing. "Please. I've known the Petersens for ages. That's their house over there." He points to a faraway dot, practically on the horizon. "We'll be fine."

They have a seat on the back of the truck, side-by-side on a slightly smelly but still serviceable fold-out mat. Bitty checks his phone first thing. 8:47. "I think it'll be starting in about fifteen. So we can just relax until things start popping."

Just relax, he says, but his heart's pounding a mile a minute, and he sits a little stiffly, deeply aware of Jack's presence next to him. What will happen? Should he say something? Do something? Will Jack do something? Bitty has a dream of a kiss under fireworks, and he thinks it has a chance of coming true, but he doesn't want to assume too much. Maybe they're just going to sit here and watch. At the very least he's pretty sure they're going to hold hands. But who reaches out first? Is now too early? And is this what it always feels like? All the butterflies and the not being sure of the least little thing? His lack of experience is an awful weight on his back. He doesn't even know what's normal.

"Hey, Bitty." Jack's voice next to him. Soft and smooth and with that little lilting accent. Bitty glances at him. There's something so gentle in his eyes, even as he sits looking up at the sky. And his lips curl up. "This was fun."

Bitty swallows the lump in his throat. "Don't talk like it's over. I know I have to send you back tomorrow, but it's not tomorrow yet."

"I wish I could stay." Jack's eyes meet his, just briefly, then dart away. "I feel like we don't have nearly enough time."

A swell of feeling in Bitty’s chest nearly topples him over. “Yeah,” he agrees quietly, but nothing in him feels quiet. He’s roaring inside with the desire to grab Jack, slide fingers into his hair, kiss him until the sun rises. He holds his hands very still at his sides. “I wish we had more time.”

“If I’d only figured it out a little sooner,” Jack says. He seems lost in his own words, eyes half-lidded, a secretive smile on his face. “It would have been complicated, but…”

“Oh, Lord, can you imagine?” Bitty grins. “The two of us sneaking around behind everybody’s back. There’s no way we’d get away with it.”

“It would have been worth it.” And with that, Jack finally reaches for him.

Bitty’s heart races like there’s a hummingbird inside him, beats so quick they all run together. All at once he’s tucked beneath Jack’s arm, face pressed into the side of his shirt, and when he inhales it’s all Jack and detergent and _wonderful._ What was he so nervous about? This is natural. This is right. Jack’s holding him and it’s everything he could have dreamed of, right and good in a thousand ways.

Without thinking, he lifts a hand to rest on Jack’s chest. Jack gives a little sigh at the touch.

Bitty wills time to stop. Those fireworks don’t ever have to start popping, so long as he can stay like this, with Jack. He doesn’t need anything else.

But he gets something anyway. Jack’s lips, lingering at the crown of his head, a soft kiss. Then whispered, almost too soft to hear: “You know I love you, right?”

Bitty squeezes his eyes shut. He didn’t need anything else, he wasn’t asking for anything else, and he doesn’t know what to do with this feeling, like his blood is singing. Is he dreaming? This all can’t be happening at once, can it? His hand on Jack’s shirt closes into a tight fist, balling up a bunch of the fabric.

“Oh, honey,” he starts, a charged whisper, and can’t think of more to say.

Jack kisses the shell of his ear. “I just want you to know it,” he says, an odd tremble to his voice. “There’s… there’s a lot I want to say and I can’t find the right words for most of it, but at least I want you to know that part.”

There’s still nothing but tightness in Bitty’s throat. He tries to say something and it comes out a croak.

“Anyway.” Jack sighs. “I might just say it. From time to time. If that’s okay.”

A rush of realization falls over Bitty like a cold wave, and he shudders. That tremble in Jack’s voice just now was uncertainty. He’s not sure Bitty feels the same way. How can he not be sure? Can’t he feel it in the way Bitty looks at him, the feeling of rightness as Bitty leans on him? Bitty feels it so overwhelmingly that he’s not sure it can’t be seen from space.

He sits up and frowns. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann,” he says slowly, deliberately. “Do you really think that there’s a place or time on this earth that it wouldn’t be okay?”

Jack blinks at him. Bitty reaches out and slides a hand, slow, over Jack’s cheek.

“Honey,” he says, sweet and gentle, “you made me so, so happy just now. I couldn’t even move, that’s how happy I was. You say whatever you want to me. Anytime you want.”

Jack’s shoulders drop, and he leans in to Bitty’s hand, nuzzling the tips of his fingers.  He doesn’t say anything, but Bitty can feel his relief, a cool breath in the hot night. As he looks, a pop sounds in the distance, and Jack’s face is illuminated, white and gold touching the edge of his cheeks.

Bitty takes in a gasp of summer-hot night air. This moment is reality. He’s here with Jack, Jack who _loves_ him, who _said_ he loves him. Absurd, ridiculous Jack Zimmermann who wasn’t sure if Bitty loved him back. Here in the back of the truck in a field in Georgia, kissing Bitty’s fingers, his face lit by the reflection of a thousand glittering stars.

There’s just one dream left to come true. Bitty lifts his other arm, slides it onto the back of Jack’s neck and pulls him in. The fireworks  Just before their lips meet, he murmurs, “And just for the record, I’ve been _stupid_ in love with you for months now.”

Jack smiles into the kiss. They settle down, nestled together, and watch the fireworks light up the sky.

**IV. For Jack’s Birthday - August**

Bitty is in a panic.

A no-holds-barred, full-on, red-alert panic.

Not because of the pies. The pies are fine. One maple-crusted apple, one cherry, both cooling on the countertop.

Not because the Haus is filling up with new faces, brand new tadpoles who are young and green and overly excited to get a glimpse of Samwell’s most famous recent alum as he visits for a birthday party. Ransom and Holster have taken to their new roles as co-kings of the Haus, and they are very specifically not letting taddies into Bitty’s kitchen, lest the kingdom’s expert piemaker prove distracted. So while he waves to a few animated faces as they peek in and sniff the air eagerly, Bitty actually has the run of the kitchen, and enough room to breathe as he anticipates Jack’s arrival. And thank goodness for it, because every time he thinks about the _last_ time he and Jack were in the same room, he blushes a shade that surely matches the cherry pie.

Not even at the fact that he’ll be driving down to Providence with Jack to stay for a few days after the party. Although the thought of having 48 hours alone with Jack _at Jack’s place_ fills his stomach with butterflies and his toes with tingles. It’s going to be so much time, so much room for them to be together, and everything they couldn’t do in Madison they’ll have the chance to do. And then, two days later, he’ll be back at Samwell, and Lord knows the next time he’ll get a chance to see Jack in person. Bitty doesn’t know which he’s more nervous about: all that time together, or all the time apart that will follow.

But none of these things is the reason Bitty’s in a panic. No, Bitty’s panicking because Bitty signed a birthday card.

It was supposed to be something he slipped Jack in a private moment, not for public consumption at all. But somehow Holster got a hold of it and has placed it in the pile of cards for Jack that is sitting on a side table in the den, waiting to be ceremonially opened and read aloud for the visiting public. And now there’s so much of a crowd in the Haus, there’s no chance Bitty can steal it back.

That card… says some personal things. Some words Bitty wanted to give Jack for his birthday, as a sort of present. And now not only is all of that gonna get shared with the whole world, but Jack’s gonna end up pretty much outing himself in front of the team. Bitty’s panic lurches into despair mode. He’s going to ruin Jack’s _life_ for his birthday.

When Jack arrives, it’s to great fanfare, all the underclassmen lining up in the narrow hall to see him walk in. He embraces Ransom, then Holster, then high-fives Chowder before finding his way to Bitty.

“I smell pie,” he says.

“Isn’t _that_ unusual,” Bitty replies with a grin. They share a casual hug, but Bitty gets to his tiptoes and whispers “Hi, sweetheart,” in Jack’s ear. Jack squeezes his waist.

The tadpoles - Bitty supposes they’re technically frogs now, but if they’re younger than Chowder they may just be tadpoles in his mind forever - swarm Jack at this point, asking for selfies and autographs. It’s embarrassing, though Jack plays along like a champ. Bitty cringes at each grab of Jack’s arm. Finally, he comes barging through the crowd, pies in hand. “Make way, y’all, unless you want a face full of cherry filling,” he trumpets, and amazingly, the taddies listen. Maybe this is the respect that comes with being a junior. It’s not a bad feeling.

They settle in the den with a mountain of paper plates and forks, and Bitty places the pies down on the low table near the card pile. Maybe if he just reached out and grabbed it back now. Maybe nobody’d notice. He walks his fingers over to the--

“--Cards! I almost forgot about the cards,” Holster says.

“I’m thinking it’s card time,” Ransom adds, nodding sagely.

“Before the pie?” It’s a weak argument, but it’s the best Bitty’s got. He’s got to buy some time to get that card back.

Jack chimes in. “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

“No, sorry.” Lardo’s perched in a corner. “The bylaws say cards come before pie in all cases.”

“They do _not_.” Bitty’s aghast.

Lardo shrugs. "Gonna bring your copy out and contradict me?" She yawns.

At this point the whole room basically erupts into a chant of "cards." Every repetition is like the drumbeat of the executioner in Bitty's ears. He sits there, at the corner of the table, with his ill-fated card in plain sight and yet completely out of reach. He casts wary eyes at Jack, hoping to warn him with a glance.

But Jack's reaching for the pile of cards, a big grin on his face. "If you guys say so," he says, and gets to opening.

The first couple are the kind of bro cards one might expect. They involve beer and scantily clad women in various combinations. Another has a picture of a majestic moose onto which Ransom has crudely drawn a Canadian flag in red Sharpie. The inside says “Hope your birthday is a-moose-ing.” Jack reads it aloud in a deadpan voice, and everyone groans. Bitty just cringes. Every card is just one step closer and closer to his atrocity.

At one point, he makes a grab for the card, thinking he can steal it away from the pile. But the minute his hand is out, Holster’s behind him, hands on his shoulders. “Getting antsy for the pie?” he says, and grins that leering grin. Bitty freezes.

“Bitty’s going to shove his face in the pie if we don’t serve it now,” Ransom notes.

“Go ahead and serve the goddamn pie, then.”

Which means that Bitty not only can no longer make a grab for the card, but his hands are now occupied cutting and serving slices of pie as Jack continues to read his cards. And because he’s handing out pie to everyone in the room, he almost doesn’t see when Jack picks up the bright red envelope that contains his card.

He whirls. “Wait, stop--”

But it’s too late. Jack is pulling the card from the envelope, opening it, reading.

“Dear Jack--”

And then he stops. And sits there, stony. The tips of his ears turn pink.

“Well?”

The guys lean in. Bitty trembles.

Jack closes the card and holds it in his hand a moment.

And then he shoves the card under his ass and sits on it.

Bitty doesn’t know whether to be horrified or relieved. On the one hand, that’s certainly one way to ensure the contents aren’t divulged. On the other hand, that’s his carefully penned love note, squelched and squished between the cushions of the godawful green couch and Jack Zimmermann’s posterior. Which is not really the fate one desires for love notes.

“The hell was that?” Ransom demands.

“Bittle.” Jack uses his iciest voice. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual.”

And then there’s just the tiniest hint of a smile. But it’s enough.

“What, what, what did you say to him, Bitty?” Chowder leans over and grabs at Bitty’s sleeve. But Bitty, having regained his wits, just shakes his head, smiles, and hands Chowder a second slice of pie.

The feeling is mutual. That’s all he needed to hear.

**V. In Providence - August**

These may have been the best 48 hours of Bitty’s life.

Jack’s apartment is beyond gorgeous. Providence is gorgeous too, but Bitty hasn’t seen much of it. They’ve gone out, seen a few sights, of course. But mostly, they’ve spent hours upon hours inside, cooking dinner and watching movies, drinking beer and laughing and talking and being together….

And kissing, So much kissing. Kissing up against the back of the door. Kissing in the living room. Kissing over kitchen counters. And oh yes, kissing on and in Jack’s bed, frantic scrambling kisses as they tease each other to the breaking point, languid soft kisses after. A million kisses, ten thousand hugs, the two of them learning all the best ways to touch. Everything from footsie under the table to cuddles in front of the TV, slow dances in the kitchen and passionate embraces in the bedroom. Bitty’s just about lost his mind with it all. He didn’t think anything could feel this good. Better than a game-winning goal, better than a perfectly baked pie, Perfection, found in another person’s presence. Heaven.

And still he’s anxious.

Because under every kiss, behind every tease and touch, words have been throbbing in Bitty’s mind, and he’s terrified he might say them out loud.

 ** _Love._** What is love? What does he know about it? He’s never had so much as a boyfriend in his life. Isn’t love some kind of deep, once-in-a-lifetime connection that takes months, years to happen? The way his mother tells it, it took a long time for her to look at his father and see a face she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Bitty knows himself well enough to know he falls hard, but there’s a difference between falling and _falling_. He’s the master of having crushes, but what does he know about real love?

And still the word tortures him, beats behind his every breath. He wants to say it so badly. But he’s afraid. What if this isn’t the real thing? What if he’s just being an idealistic child?  What if he says it, and Jack just looks at him with sad eyes and shakes his head?

So he bites it down, each time, and they talk about everything else. About Jack’s teammates, and Bitty’s kids at summer camp, and the incoming freshmen, and Shitty already miserable at law school. How their parents are, how their friends are. And even how happy they are, and how much fun they’re having. At one point Jack sighs against his neck and squeezes him tight, saying “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun in one day,” and Bitty wants _so_ badly to say it then.

_I love you, Jack. I love you so much and I want every day of your life to make you feel the way you’re feeling now._

And now it’s their last night. Jack cooked dinner, and Bitty’s shoved him out of the kitchen afterward -- “I’ll wash the dishes, you have a dishwasher, it’s not like I have to do much, just let me.” Which leaves Bitty alone in the kitchen, scrubbing up, and Jack taking a beer out onto the balcony.

It doesn’t take long, and Bitty emerges from the kitchen with slightly damp hands, ready to join Jack on the balcony for a last look at the Providence skyline by night. He crosses the living room to the door, and stops.

Beyond the door, he sees Jack in profile, looking out into the night as though he’s watching a faraway star fall. His fingers are clutched loosely around the bottle, his weight shifted forward as he leans on the railing. And there’s a smile on his face like none Bitty’s ever seen. The innocence in that smile. The simple happiness.

Bitty’s heart clenches in his chest. In that moment, he knows. And no fear, no anxiety and no artifice can stand in the face of that knowledge.

He slides the door open and steps out. Jack stirs at the sound, but doesn’t turn. A siren sounds on the distant streets.

“I love you,” Bitty says.

He’s still a pace behind Jack, who turns, faces him. The smile has slipped away.

“I really…. really love you,” Bitty goes on. Oh, God. Now he can’t stop. “I know I’m probably silly and it’s probably too soon and I should shut my fool mouth, but I just keep feeling it and it’s really hard to feel something that much and not say it. But I’ve been so happy. You’ve made me so happy. I just have to. I have to say it. I love you, Jack. I… hope that’s okay.”

Jack moves very slowly, placing the beer bottle on the balcony railing. He makes no other move.

Bitty’s head swims, and he starts to see spots. Oh, no, is he going to faint? Or crumple up into a ball on this balcony? Maybe. If Jack doesn’t say something soon, if Jack goes inside without a word, he very well might.

Change the subject! Pretend it didn’t happen! “Um. But, the dishes are done! So you don’t have to worry about that. I told you I’d take care of--”

Jack’s arms sweep around him so suddenly and so strongly that Bitty’s actually pulled right up off the floor. Oh, Lord, Jack’s squeezing him so tight, he’s never been held so tight in his life. Jack might break him. Bitty grabs his shoulders and holds on, terrified.

“Bits. Bitty.” The name in his ear. Jack’s mouth at his hairline. Is Jack _shaking_? What’s going on? He’s being held, but it’s still scary somehow.

“Jack, I’m sorry,” he manages, “I didn’t mean to--”

Laughter. Jack’s laughter. In his ear. It sounds like music.

Jack presses kisses to his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. Now it’s Bitty who’s trembling and Jack holding him steady.

“Wait,” Bitty says, but he can’t help pursing his lips against Jack’s, chasing the kisses as they depart. “Wait, Jack, stop, I’m confused.”

Easing back, Jack looks at him with those beautiful, kind eyes. He keeps one hand wrapped loosely around Bitty’s waist. “I’m just glad you said it first,” he says.

Bitty flushes. “You are?”

“All week I’ve been biting my tongue,” Jack says. That smile is back, and it’s dazzling. Bitty feels a little dizzy just looking at it. “All week, everything we did. Last night. Yesterday. Today. I kept looking at you and thinking it. But I couldn’t say it.” He shakes his head, laughing a little. “I guess you’re the brave one.”

“I-- I didn’t--” and he really didn’t, it just came out, he couldn’t help it, “but wait, does that mean, help, Jack, I’m really confused now.”

Jack leans in and kisses him, one more time, soft. The beer’s scent is light and pleasant on his breath. “I’m telling you I love you too,” he says. “That clear enough?”

Oh, yes. Yes, it is.

In another second they’re back through the door, kissing their way past the living room and the kitchen and down the hall. And when they get to the bedroom, Jack whispers the words against Bitty’s mouth, and Bitty murmurs them into Jack’s neck. “I love you,” trailing down Bitty’s stomach. “I love you” between Jack’s thighs. “I love you” into the air, a shout. “I love you,” murmured, sleeply, against bare, sweaty skin.

By the end of the night they’ve said it enough times to make up for the whole summer.

  
  


and

**I. You Can Thank Shitty for This…**

Jack tells Shitty almost immediately.

He has to. Who’s he going to confide in? He needs someone there. He’s not good at this, he hasn’t managed a relationship since -- well, not for all the years he’s been at college. A few strings of dates, no real relationships. He needs advice. He needs a friend. And he definitely needs someone who won’t freak out on him.

He clearly chose the wrong person.

“Fuck!” Shitty screams into the phone. “Are you fucking kidding me, you motherfucking motherfuckers, you did NOT.”

“I did. We did, I guess.” Jack holds his cell away from his ear. “I’m pretty sure -- Shits, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

“Since fucking WHEN?”

“That’s… a good question, actually.” Jack’s going to spend a lot of nights this summer trying to figure out the answer to that one.

“Well, first thing’s first,” Shitty says, calming a bit. “Don’t scare him off. Bits is like a fucking bunny rabbit. You get too serious on him, he’s going to freak out. Be chill. Have a good time. Make out. Whatever. If you’re gonna drop the L word, do it casually. You’ll break the poor kid.”

Jack’s a little alarmed by this. “What do you mean I’ll break him?”

“I mean Bits’ll react like he does when you go at him for a check. Let it be for a bit.”

Jack takes his advice. He goes down to Madison and spends a lovely few days playing Bitty’s friend for the Bittles, sneaking in some cuddling and canoodling behind closed doors and under night skies. He and Bitty Skype and text constantly, talking about everything under the sun. Bitty even comes to Providence for a few days, and those few days pretty much redefine the word “fun” for Jack forever. But he stays quiet about his feelings. It’s not like he’s much into talking about them normally, anyway.

Those days pass, and Bitty heads back to school. They still talk constantly. Today Bitty has informed him that he wants to mention he’s dating someone in his vlog. The thought puts Jack on edge, but he doesn’t put up too much of a fight. It’s not like Bitty’s going to say _who_ he is. And this is a good sign. It means Bitty’s relaxing a little bit. Maybe Jack will be able to say the things he wants to say, the next time they see each other face-to-face.

The thought reminds him of Shitty’s recommendation. _Drop the L-word casually._ Maybe that’s the right call. Jack can ease into it.

So, when he calls Bitty back a few minutes later, he takes a breath and says, at the very end, “Okay. Bye,  Bits. Lo--”

“HEY!”

His teammate thumps him hard on the back. Jack jumps, startled.

“Big smile for Zimmboni! Your girl, huh? Shows on face!”

Jack forces out a short laugh. “Yeah,” he says. A wave of sorrow plummets down through him. “My girl.”

He glances down at his phone. The call’s ended. And now he’s lied. He knew it was coming, but he didn’t think it’d be quite so quickly. And he didn’t expect it to hurt quite so much.

He only hopes he can tell the truth to the people that matter, someday soon.


End file.
